Blue Shards
by Yume Hanabi
Summary: A collection of one-shots from Tumblr prompts.
1. Fluffy Problems

**Requester:** Auj-Oule.

**Prompt:** Gaius and his cats.

**Summary: **There is one battle that Wingul will never win; it is the one against Gaius' love of cats.

**Notes:** Khan Baliq = Kanbalar

* * *

><p>Cats were rare in Khan Baliq.<p>

The harsh climate ensured that the little creatures did not survive long in the wild, and those who were domesticated rarely left the comfort of their homes.

Cats were rare in Khan Baliq.

There was little prey to hunt in the snowy streets of the capital, and even the thickest of fur could not completely protect from the icy winds of Lasylph.

Cats were rare in Khan Baliq.

Or so Wingul used to think.

The first time he found a cat in the castle, he assumed a stray had accidentally found a way inside, and he simply gave him some food and escorted it outside. The second time Gaius stopped him before he could release the animal through a back door. Apparently the feline was officially employed as a mice hunter. The third time he was ready to unceremoniously dump the wiggling fur ball into the nearest snow pile, but Agria had caught him and "rescued" the "poor little baby", calling him a heartless bastard. She had then used the incident to blackmail him, threatening to tell Gaius if he did not do her bindings for a full week. After that their numbers only kept increasing, and Wingul lost track and had to give up trying to keep records (it was not for a lack of trying, however). The little pests roamed the castle freely, shedding their fur everywhere and always finding themselves where they were not supposed to be. Some of them did accomplish their mission as rodent catchers, though in Wingul's opinion they were just replacing one furry problem with another.

Of course Gaius was delighted to have so many of them around him. And since he was the king, he could issue orders to leave the little critters alone. Wingul thought it was time to implement a legislation that would make it possible to overturn the king's decisions if they were judged unreasonable by his prime minister.

To make matter worse, they were extremely popular, not only within the Chimeriad (he once caught Agria and Presa cooing over a litter of little black devils, and that was a memory he was trying hard to erase from his mind), but also among the people of Khan Baliq. Gaius could now often be found holding audiences with a couple of cats on his laps, and it seemed like the people greatly appreciated this sight. He suspected that some were making up petitions to present to the king as an excuse to come and see him tending to his pets. There was probably a commercial idea to be found in the trend, but by that point Wingul was far too irritated to care.

They were facing a real invasion, one that for once in his life as a brilliant tactician, he was unable to stop.

The worst came one snowy night, when he had joined his king in his chambers in the hope of some fun time together.

Gaius was quick to undress himself, as he always was, and Wingul was about to remove his shirt when his eyes fell on the thing on the bed.

"Gaius," he called out urgently.

"Hmm?"

"There is a cat on your bed."

"Oh, yes, I know. He keeps me company when you're not there."

Slightly offended at the thought of being replaced by one of these little nightmares, Wingul spoke in a firm voice.

"It has to go."

"I suppose he can sleep on the carpet. I would not want to crush him if we move too much." Gaius crouched down on the bed's side and woke the cat up and started petting it affectionately. "Hey there, little one. I'm afraid we need you to move, Linlin."

"No, not the carpet either. I meant— _...Linlin?_" His mouth slightly open, he could only look at Gaius in disbelief. The king looked up with a look that said_ 'I dare you to challenge me on that.'_

"You named that wretched—I mean, that 'adorable kitty',_ Linlin?_" The distaste was palpable in his voice. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to refocus. "Anyway, as I was saying, the carpet won't do either. I need it out of the room. I don't want it to watch us."

Gaius gave him a hurt look, hugging the animal close to his chest, a sight that made Wingul glare at the creature with a nasty look. It was one of the little black ones Presa and Agria were cooing over earlier. On closer look, it seemed to have a little yellow spot in the middle of his forehead. No wonder it was named after him, though Wingul found no comfort in this observation.

"But it's cold in the corridor! Have you no heart?" Gaius tried to appeal to him. "He's just a cat, he won't bother us."

"Yes, it's a cat, and much as I loathe to acknowledge it, cats are highly intelligent creatures. What if it tells Jiao what it sees here?"

"Now you are just making things up. Why would a kitty care about what we're doing in bed? Besides, it isn't as if Jiao doesn't know—"

"I would rather—" Wingul interrupted, his face reddening at the memory, "I would rather Jiao were not privy to the details of our intimate life. ...More than he already is, at least."

Gaius let out a small chuckle, and finally conceded. "All right, all right. Come, Linlin, tonight you are sleeping with Presa."

At his gesture, the kitten, as if as trained, jumped on his shoulder. Gaius stood up, careful not to make it lose its balance, and made his way to the door.

"Wait!" Wingul called back suddenly.

Gaius stopped and turned back to look at him with an inquisitive stare, the kitten still perched on his shoulder. Wingul resisted the urge to bang his head on the bed frame in frustration, and opted for hiding his face in his hands, letting out a long exasperated sigh.

"At least put some pants on before leaving the room."


	2. Wild Hair

**Requester:** Athena.

**Prompt:** Wingul's ahoge.

**Summary: **Wingul's golden strand of hair had a tendency to get in the way.

* * *

><p>Gaius liked hugs.<p>

When he was a child, hugs were a regular part of his life, whether it was falling asleep snuggled with his sister under the covers like two little cats keeping each other warm during harsh winter nights, or sitting on his father's lap as he taught him how to write.

That physical closeness, the warmth of a loved one's body against his own was something he had been deprived of since he had cast aside the safety of his home to walk the lonely path of a revolutionary, and he had missed that terribly.

But amidst the chaos of war, he had found a kindred soul, who shared his dreams, his pains and his love. And whenever the occasion arose, when they found themselves away from the bustling activity of their camp, he liked to take him into his arms and hold him, just for a moment, to feel his warmth and remember that he was not alone.

Gaius liked hugging Wingul, and yet–

"_Atchoo!"_

Wingul disentangled himself from his embrace and looked at him critically.

"Are you sick?"

"No, I'm fine, it's... It's just your weird hair." Gaius replied, eyeing the golden strand of hair sticking out from his lover's head with a dubious look.

"My... hair...?"

"Yes, that yellow strand of yours..."

He reached out and took the lock between his fingers, feeling its texture. It was as soft as the rest of Wingul's hair.

"It's always in my face when we get close. It made my nose itch. How is it even sticking out like that? Are you using special hair products?"

Wingul pushed his hand away and self-consciously tried to flatten his hair.

"I am not. I was born with it. Actually..." With a sigh, he let it go, knowing it was a lost cause. "Nils attempted to tame it numerous times when I was a child, to no avail."

"Have you ever considered cutting it?"

The offended look Wingul gave him made him regret his words immediately. Right. He had forgotten the other man was sensitive about his hair.

"Forget I said that."

Wingul nodded, his look serious. Then his expression softened and he tried to think of a solution. "We could find ways to prevent my hair from getting into your face."

"Oh? And what do you suggest?"

"I don't know... Maybe like this?"

Wingul pulled him in an embrace and raised his face toward him, softly pressing his lips to his own. He then pulled back a little and murmured with a small smile.

"My hair is not in the way now."

Trust his strategist to come up with the best plans, Gaius thought as they resumed kissing, holding tight to each other.


	3. Spicy Legislation

**Requester:** Rolling Tomorrow.

**Prompt:** Gaius's inability to handle spicy food.

**Summary:** Laws and kitchens do not mix well.

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><p>Gaius was on the floor playing with his cat when Wingul found him. The sight was one that could be considered endearing, but given Wingul's animosity towards the feline, this only served to increase his irritation.<p>

"Don't you have work to do?" he asked rather nastily, startling the kitten, who ran under the nearest furniture.

Gaius did not raise his head to acknowledge him when he spoke. "Is that how you greet your monarch? I had pegged you as a man of protocol..."

Wingul immediately corrected his stance and bowed low, lower than necessary, and humored him with a voice thick with sarcasm. "My apologies, Your Highness. Please allow me to wish you a most pleasant morning. I beg your forgiveness for my impudent remark, but I was under the impression that today's audiences were supposed to start..." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Ten minutes ago."

Gaius finally looked up at him with a small amused smile. "Good morning to you too, Wingul. As you can see if you look outside, our city is currently under a thick blizzard. Since accesses to the castle are currently blocked, audiences have been canceled for today. I've merely taken advantage of this unexpected break to spend some time with Linlin. But this is not the reason you are here, is it? Tell me, what is the reason of your ire?"

At these words, Wingul brandished a sheet of paper. It was an official document, recognizable by the ornate design of its borders and the red royal seal apposed to the bottom. When Gaius recognized it, he froze up, his eyes fixed on the paper, unblinking. Seeing that he would not offer answers, Wingul prodded. "Well?"

Slowly, Gaius looked up to meet his gaze.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Please do not play innocent, Your Highness. You know very well what this is about."

Gaius darted a glance at the door, and Wingul immediately put himself in between. His means of escape blocked, Gaius resigned himself with a sigh.

"I knew you wouldn't like it."

"Is that why you wrote it without my knowledge? If you felt the need to sneak around me, surely you must have realized how terrible this idea is."

Gaius winced at the criticism. "You don't understand..."

Wingul got down on his knees and grabbed his shoulder, trying to shake some sense into him. "You're the one who doesn't understand," he began to whisper furiously. "This is grave, Gaius. This little document here... No matter how minor the matter, this is plain abuse of power. As your chief advisor, I cannot let you do that. You are lucky I found this before it was made public."

"But what am I to do, then? Three nights in a row, Wingul! They are trying to poison me." Gaius did his best to stay stoic, but Wingul could hear a note of helplessness in his voice. He suddenly felt the urge to pity him, as well as an irresistible desire to laugh.

"I understand your predicament." Under Gaius's doubtful gaze, he insisted. "Really, I do. I have known you for fifteen years. As much as you try to hide it, I know you enough to know how sensitive you are to this. But this is going too far. You cannot just ban all types of spices from the castle kitchen, with a formal royal edict, no less. You would be facing a rebellion from the cooks in no time."

Gaius closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Fine. I shall dispose of this document."

"Good."

Linlin chose this moment to come out of hiding and jump on Gaius's lap, as if to comfort him, an action that did not escape Wingul. "The next time dinner includes a spicy dish," he suddenly said, "you can have my dessert."

Gaius's eyes immediately lit up and a joyful smile formed on his lips. Wingul had to marvel at how easily his king could turn back into a child when food was concerned.

"I will gladly take you up on your offer," the king said.

He leaned in to thank him with a kiss, during which Wingul satisfyingly fixed Linlin from the corner of his eyes.

'_I win this one, kitty.'_


	4. Flower Language

**Requester:** Anonymous.

**Prompt:** Wingul's knowledge of flowers.

**Summary:** Flowers always faithfully illustrate his feelings.

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><p>His mother has a garden in the little court outside of her room. In it she raises a variety of flowers. He likes to look at it from the window, especially in winter. There are colors everywhere.<p>

One day she proposes a deal: she will tell him about the flowers, and he will draw them for her. He likes the flowers, he likes drawing, he likes knowledge. Above all, he loves his mother. They intertwine their little fingers to make a pact. The first flower she presents him is a pink carnation. She tells him it has a meaning.

_Maternal love._

He hugs her tightly.

~oOo~

One day his mother breaks their promise. She won't tell him about flowers anymore. She is dead. While sorting through her belongings, he finds a book about flowers. He keeps it as a memento, deciding to commit its contents to memory. She may no longer be with him anymore, but he will uphold his part of the deal.

He covers her grave with white chrysanthemums.

_Grief._

"Rest in peace, Mother."

Tears are streaming down his face.

~oOo~

He throws everything he has in the battle against his enemy. On his sword's hilt, he attaches a fire lily.

_Revenge._

But the lily eventually withers.

~oOo~

One day, he surrenders. He joins his enemy. For his clan. For his country.

His commander is a man who will one day be king. His ideals are strong, and his will stronger. He will be a good king.

On the road, he finds a daffodil. At night, he sneaks to his commander's tent and attaches it to a stake.

_Respect._

Perhaps he was never truly his enemy.

~oOo~

The day before every battle, he looks for four-leaf clovers. He gives one to his best friend, and lays one at the entrance of his commander's tent.

_Good luck._

May we win this battle.

~oOo~

One day, his commander proposes a deal. He will use his genius to help him win the war. In exchange, he will be his right hand, answering to none but him. He finds a new purpose in life. He also gets a new name, a name heavy with symbolism.

To seal their pact, he offers him a flower, a yellow zinnia.

_Loyalty._

His commander raises his eyebrows. The meaning is lost on him, but he does not care.

~oOo~

He realizes clovers are naive. It is not luck they need, it is resolve and bravery.

So he replaces them with gladioli. When they win, he adds a nasturtium.

_Bravery in battle. Conquest and victory._

They_ will _prevail.

~oOo~

Together, they are unstoppable. They spend more and more time together now, and he realizes he likes his commander's company. They plan strategies, they talk, they play. Sometimes they go on reckless quests. It reminds him of his childhood.

One day, he picks a jasmine and puts it in a vase on his commander's desk.

_Friendship._

He will never say the word aloud.

~oOo~

Sometimes, he makes mistakes, and things do not go as planned.

One day, many lives are lost because of him. Gaius is angry at him, and for a moment he thinks it is over.

He makes a flower crown to place on the memorial of that battle. Purple hyacinths and white chrysanthemums, for their men, but also for those of the opposite side. They were all brave soldiers.

_I'm sorry. Rest in peace._

His mistakes are forgiven, and slowly life goes back to normal.

Their next victory is so great that history forgets about their previous battle. Not him, though. He will make sure it never happens again.

~oOo~

He is always with Gaius now, even in his dreams.

One night, he thinks about him when he touches himself. He tells himself it was just a coincidence, but it happens again and after a few times he understands what it means.

Gaius' desk is now home to a cactus flower.

_I lust for you._

The move is risky but by now he knows Gaius will not understand. He is both sad and relieved at this thought.

~oOo~

The months that follow are spent picking other flowers to his whims and fancy. He cannot express his feelings aloud, so he lets them out through the little vase lying next to the cactus on the desk.

Gardenias, mistletoe, yellow tulips, orchids, pink camellias, red roses.

_I like you. Please kiss me. I know this is hopeless. Make love to me. I am longing for you. I love you._

The maids believe Gaius has a secret admirer. Gaius believes he just likes decorating his desk.

~oOo~

Gaius does not understand the flowers, but he sees the affection in his eyes.

One day, he pulls him close to kiss him.

His heart beats fast and he cannot stop smiling when he adds an ambrosia to the vase.

_Our feelings are mutual._

After that he stops picking flowers. He will use his voice now.

~oOo~

Time passes and they fulfill their promise. Gaius is king now, and he is his right hand. Their relationship has grown beyond that, and they make a new pact. To stay together always. To never stray from their path, too.

They make their oath with a sopheria.

_The flower of promises._

This time he tells him what it means.

~oOo~

One day he wakes up in a bed in a white room. He has a terrible headache and his vision is blurry. The Booster experiment was a success, but the toll on his body is high. Keeping control is a struggle and he needs a lot of rest.

On the table he sees a vase with a large bouquet. The nurse tells him Gaius brought it, but that he left a little before he woke up.

Salvias. Purple hyacinths. Bluebells.

_Get well soon. I'm sorry. Thank you._

He takes a hyacinth from the vase and tells the nurse to send it to the king.

~oOo~

He knows the end is near. He was ordered to stay behind, but he will go nonetheless. He holds no illusion as to the result of the battle he will fight, but he does not back down. His hands tremble when he takes his sword. He knows it is foolish, but he will not forgive himself if he hides in the castle while Gaius is fighting his most decisive battle. He will make one last stand. For his king. For his love.

Before he leaves, he visits the king's bedroom. He pauses to take in all the memories that are evoked by this familiar place. Then he gently lays a little blue flower on his bed. A myosotis.

_Forget-me-not._

When he turns back his hands are steady.


End file.
